Chills
by Liz Williams
Summary: Very late challenge...
1. Cold

Title: Chills  
  
Author: Liz Williams  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own them even a little bit. Have massive student loans and a huge cactus and Venus fly trap collection, but that's pretty much it if any one wants to sue.  
  
Summary: Getting warmer all the time.  
  
A/N1: This is from a Valentine's Day Challenge, but it's so long ago I forget where it came from, maybe Unbound. According to my notes Mossley was the one who came up with this. The elements are at the end of the fic  
  
A/N2: Okay so life kinda went a little nuts, well a lot nuts. I had the first couple of pages ready long before the due date, then work went nuts. Job ended, so much free time to write fic again. I'm WAY over the word count. This is finished it'll be posted in parts as I get them from my beta reader. All mistakes are mine.  
  
Okay...a Valentine's Day challenge...  
  
A Beautiful Game  
  
It was nice to be working with Grissom again. Sara had thought that after his confession in the interrogation room Grissom would push her even further away, shut her out completely. Yet here they were, together, working together on a case that was a slam-dunk. Sure, Greg was with them, but he was off doing some basic search and processing in the pitcher's mound.  
  
Sara walked up the stairs to the top bench that overlooked first base. Grissom had been up there and seemed to be doing nothing more than staring off into space for the last twenty minutes. Their case was pretty much open- and-shut; the pitcher from the home team had been beaten up after the game in which he had pitched a shutout, eliminating the opposing team from the state championship. The surveillance cameras had caught the five boys who had beaten the pitcher within an inch of his life in the home team's dugout. Gathering and processing the remaining evidence was just a matter of making sure that there was no possible way for the little bastards to get off. That's why Grissom had let Greg come along -- to get some more experience on a straightforward case.  
  
"So, I see you're hard at work," Sara joked as she came to sit next to Grissom on the bleachers. He started, giving her an odd look.  
  
"I used to play baseball when I was a kid," Grissom mused, seemingly unaware he had spoken aloud. "As much as I enjoyed being on the field I preferred to be in the bleachers, above the first base. Watching the whole game and its players."  
  
"Ever the observer." Sara thought it was telling that even as a child Grissom had isolated himself from others.  
  
"Baseball is an amazing game. You can figure out just from looking at the box scores how the game unfolded. What plays tilted the scales for the winners." As he spoke, a wistful look came over his face, and Sara could tell that he wasn't entirely with her any more.  
  
"I never really liked watching baseball, even as a kid. It was too slow for me, but I could play it for hours."  
  
Grissom looked over at her for the first time, imagining a young Sara with pigtails. He turned back to the baseball field, and in his mind's eye the sun was shining and there was Sara stepping up to the plate, swinging her bat to warm up. The pitch, the loud crack as ball and bat connected, Sara running to first, to second, her team mates cheering her on, to third and the crowd going wild. The outfielder finally capturing the ball and throwing it to the third base player, who threw it to the catcher as Sara was heading home. It was a race then between the ball and catcher's mitt and Sara as she dove onto home plate. Everyone holding their breath unsure which player had made the play. The ump calling, 'Safe' and the dugout emptying as her teammates raced out to congratulate her for bringing in the winning run.  
  
"You must have been a good runner," was his only comment. Sara cocked an eyebrow at him, asking without words for him to elaborate. Idly, Grissom wondered if that was one of his traits that she had picked up over the years.  
  
With slow deliberation, Grissom dropped his gaze from hers, running down her body to linger over her long legs. "You have long legs."  
  
The breath caught in Sara's lungs came out in a puff it was so like Grissom to state so matter-a-factly something other men would have used as a come- on or compliment.  
  
If Grissom held true to their other quasi-emotional scenes from the past couple of years, he should have pulled away from her as soon as he left the interrogation room. Instead, they were working together as much as they had when she had first arrived. He was talking to her about things that didn't pertain to their cases. Sara couldn't figure Grissom out; these last personal nuggets coming so soon after his outburst should have made his head implode or something. It confused her.  
  
"I haven't been to a baseball game in years," Sara said, finding it ironic that it was she who was trying to steer the conversation to a more impersonal level this time.  
  
"The first date I went on when I was growing up was to a baseball game."  
  
Sara looked at Grissom in shock. After so long of having him address her only in a professional manner, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to react to the personal conversation they were having. Except that it was a monologue, really, since she had contributed almost nothing of significance.  
  
Sara's silence seemed to bring Grissom back to himself. He looked at her for a moment, the same vague expression of panic on his face that had been there when she threatened to leave and when she asked him out.  
  
"We should head back down to Greg. He should be almost done."  
  
Again, he had switched gears on her, so quickly she was scared she was going to get whiplash. They headed down the stairs to the diamond.  
  
"How's it going, Greggo?" Sara walked over to where Greg was packing up his kit.  
  
"Pretty good. Can I show you what I got back in my lab?" He raised and lowered his eyebrows jokingly. Sara tried to glare at him, but it came out as a smirk. She knew exactly where she stood with Greg; at least some parts of tonight were staying normal.  
  
"Let's head back to CSI." Grissom's tone was gruff as he turned from the younger two CSI's and walked towards his Denali.  
  
"What did I do wrong now?" Greg asked. From his tone, he sounded more resigned than anything else.  
  
"It's not you Greg, it's him. Trust me on that." Sara watched Grissom's retreat.  
  
"You know he's an idiot," Greg mumbled following her gaze. Sara whipped her head around. "It's true." Greg defended himself. "He might be one of the most brilliant scientists Forensics has, but as human being he has no idea how to deal with people or personal feelings."  
  
"That's not entirely true. He's great with victims and suspects, he just sucks at communicating with the people he has to deal with on an ongoing basis." Sara's mind briefly flashed to Grissom monologue to Dr. Lurie. Yeah, strangers were safe. "Come on." They both bent to pick up their silver kits.  
  
"You know, if you ever need to talk, or just want to hang out, my lab is your lab." Greg's gaze was open and for once unflirtatious. Sara smiled her thanks.  
  
"You know, Greggo, technically the lab belongs to the city of Las Vegas. They're the ones that pay for everything."  
  
"Well by that logic, the city gets its money from the tax payers of Vegas. I myself happen to be one of those tax-paying residents, ergo the lab is in fact mine." Their banter continued as they approached the parking lot.  
  
There was a clicking a split second before the sprinklers came on.  
  
"Oh shit!" Both Sara and Greg broke into a run, heading towards the vehicles as fast as they could. Greg slipped on the wet grass just a few feet away from the dry zone. He lay stunned for a second until a jet of freezing cold water drenched him.  
  
Soaked now, Greg stood once again picked up his kit and walked the last few feet to safety.  
  
"Well, that was bracing," Greg joked. He was just glad that he already had all the evidence in the back of Grissom's Denali.  
  
"Sara, Greg, are you two alright?" Grissom asked, walking up to them. From the front seat of his Denali, Grissom had watched the pair, wondering what they had spent so long on the pitcher's mound talking about. Sara had smiled at Greg. She used to smile at him. A mix of jealousy and sadness had battled within his chest as he watched them. He had opted to stare at the dashboard gauges rather than see Sara smile at the younger man again. She would probably catch a ride back to the lab with Greg now.  
  
Maybe it was too late.  
  
Before he could settle into a good brood he had heard Sara's curse. Startled he looked up. Seeing that neither were in real danger, he smirked to himself with satisfaction at being dry and in the car. Greg's fall had wiped the smile from his lips and he quickly exited the SUV.  
  
"Yeah, we're fine. Wet, cold, but fine." A shiver shook Sara's body before she had finished speaking.  
  
"Let's head back to the lab so you two can have a hot shower and change clothes." Greg was much wetter then Sara, with a puddle forming at his feet.  
  
"And a hot cup of coffee," Greg added, as he walked to the back of his car to put his kit away.  
  
"Hey, Greg, can I catch a ride back to the lab with you?" Sara saw Grissom freeze, his face becoming blank. "I don't want to ruin the Denali's leather seat." Though she kept her voice slightly raised for Greg to hear, she looked Grissom directly in the eye. Grissom nodded, for once accepting her explanation at face value.  
  
Their gazes stayed locked, each trying to figure out what the other was thinking. Not so long ago they would have been able to make an accurate guess, or at least known whether the look was personal or involved the case at hand. The air between them grew thick as another shiver racked Sara's body, though whether it was from the damp cold or what she had seen in Grissom's eyes was a crapshoot.  
  
As if in a dream Grissom raised his hand, with no idea what he was going to do with it. He watched, fascinated, as it came up to Sara's shoulder.  
  
The slamming of the trunk broke the spell and they jumped apart guiltily. "Sure Sara, ruin the interior of my baby." It took a moment for the two CSI's to realize that only seconds had passed since Sara had asked Greg for a lift.  
  
"I'd hardly be proud of the interior of your car, Greg," Grissom deadpanned. He chose to look at the younger man, desperately trying to recover his equilibrium from whatever had almost happened.  
  
"Hey, not all of us make the big CSI administrator bucks, boss-man."  
  
Though he was smirking, Grissom could see that Greg's lips had started to turn a little blue. And he was still dripping.  
  
"Get in the car Greg. I'll see you two back at CSI."  
  
Greg's hand shook with cold as he fumbled the passenger door open, but he grinned and bowed toward Sara.  
  
"Your chariot awaits, my lady."  
  
"Umm, Gris?" Sara looked down, unsure how to word what she was trying to say. "I, ah, kinda don't have a change of clothes in my locker. I forgot to bring in a new change of clothes tonight. After last night's dumpster dive I had to shower for--" Sara stopped abruptly realizing that she was over- talking. Again. "I'll need to go home to get something dry."  
  
"I can--"Whatever Greg was about to say was cut off by Grissom.  
  
"Get in the car, Greg. Head back, take a shower, get dry clothes and your cup of coffee. I'll take Sara to her place. If we're not back by the time you're done, start logging in the evidence we've gathered. When you're done that please start processing any DNA evidence."  
  
"Gris, you don't have to drive me home and wait around for me." Sara wished her protest was stronger. She meant it to be, but she was so cold. Another shudder racked her body. And another. The shivering didn't stop this time. "I-I d-don't want t-to ruin your interior."  
  
"Sara you're freezing, get in the car." He held his breath waiting to see where she would go. Then added, "Please."  
  
It was the please that tipped the scales, Sara tried to tell herself as she turned away from Greg's car. She didn't want Gris to feel guilty over her health. And there was the please. She mentally snorted at that lie; sure that was the reason. They walked to the Denali, the squishing of her shoes and chattering teeth the only noise between them. As they reached the passenger-side door, Grissom grasped Sara's arm gently, stopping her from opening the door. Sara watched in fascination as he took off his windbreaker and wrapped her up in it.  
  
"We need to get you warmed up. This will help a bit until the interior of the car heats up." As he spoke, Grissom gently rubbed Sara's arms. Reluctantly, Grissom reached around Sara and opened the passenger door, his body a whisper away from hers. Sara nodded mutely, unable to reply beyond that small movement.  
  
The drive to her apartment passed in silence that echoed with the layers of the camaraderie and ease of years past, the anger and distrust of resent months, and a new layer that neither could yet give name to.  
  
TBC... Here's the challenge  
  
1. Can't be in a traditional romantic locale (ie, no restaurants, not at the lake, no dancing, etc.)  
  
2. It's not a date - it has to take place in a work-related scene.  
  
3. They have to share something personal.  
  
4. Uhm. It has to be G/S? That should be obvious!  
  
5. Greg has to get totally drenched with ice-cold water some how. (I'm in a torture Greg mood!)  
  
6. 5000 words or less 


	2. Warming Up

Title: Chills  
  
Author: Liz Williams  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own them even a little bit. Have massive student loans and a huge cactus and Venus fly trap collection, but that's pretty much it if any one wants to sue.  
  
Summary: Getting warmer all the time.  
  
Thanks for the feedback, it keeps me writing.  
  
A/N: Sorry this took so long, life interfered at it took my beta a while to get this part back to me. In reparation it's pretty much the bulk of the story, there's a about two pages left after this to tie up some loose ends.  
  
#####  
  
"If you want to get in the shower, I'll start a pot of coffee for you so that you'll have something warm to drink when you get out." Grissom didn't look at Sara as he spoke, unsure of his welcome in her house. Fearing she'd asking to leave. Fearing that she'd ask him to stay while she showered.  
  
"You don't have to do that, Gris." Sara had warmed up enough on the drive over that her teeth were no longer chattering. They stood next to the island that separated her kitchen and living room, facing each other awkwardly, looking everywhere except at each other.  
  
"Go, get warm."  
  
There was really nothing to say, so Sara headed down the short hallway to her room to get a change of clothes and shower. Taking off her sodden shoes and socks, she could hear cupboard doors systematically being opening and shut as Grissom rummaged around her tiny kitchen preparing to make coffee.  
  
Sara had just stripped off Grissom's jacket and her sweater when she remembered that she didn't have any ground coffee left -- just a bag of specialty beans that Greg had given her, in the freezer. Debating the merits of a hot drink after her shower, Sara decided she could really do with a cup of coffee to warm up her insides.  
  
"Sara, I can't find your coffee," Grissom called from just a few feet in front of her.  
  
"It's in the freezer."  
  
Grissom jumped when she spoke from directly behind him.  
  
"Jesus, Sara! You almost gave me a heart attack." He turned to face her, smiling to take the sting out of his words. The smile froze along with the rest of his body as he took in the vision before him.  
  
Hair damp and curling wildly, skin porcelain pale, cheeks flushed red from cold. She looked so young, so beautiful. Unable to stop himself Grissom's gazed dropped from her face following the curve of her long neck to the front of her t-shirt. Her white t-shirt. Her white, wet t-shirt. Her white, wet, nearly transparent t-shirt.  
  
Some small corner of Grissom's brain that still possessed coherent thought told him to turn around, that he was her boss, that this wasn't proper. A much larger part of his brain beat that part down as he raked his gaze over her chest. He could clearly see the dark shadow of the aureolae surrounding her erect nipples.  
  
As if in a dream, he let his gaze rest on her chest. He could see the flutter of her heart under her left breast. The part of him that was and would always be a scientist started counting her heartbeats. Her heartrate was a little fast -- in fact, it seemed to be accelerating by the second.  
  
Slowly, Grissom reached up to tuck an errant curl behind Sara's ear. Task done, he gathered the courage to look into Sara's eyes, worried that she'd be angry with the way his gaze had wandered over her. Scared she'd be encouraging. Utterly petrified that her eyes would be indifferent, proof that he had waited too long to figure this out.  
  
He let his hand drift down to her neck, thumb gently caressing the underside of her jaw. Taking a deep breath, embracing the now-or-never feeling coursing through him, he tore his gaze away from his her neck to her deep brown eyes.  
  
What he saw there was everything that he thought he might see: anger, and encouragement tempered by a wall of feigned indifference. What he didn't expect to see -- what he had never seen -- was fear. In all the years he had known her, he had never before seen fear in her eyes. What had he done? How was it that his touching her scared her so much?  
  
"Sara," he breathed, and stopped. He never knew what to say to her. Her name was all he ever seemed to be able to get out. If words failed him, Grissom decided, then perhaps it was time for actions.  
  
Grissom's tongue came out and moistened his lips. Sara's gaze dropped from his, as she unconsciously mimicked his action. Slowly, Grissom moved forward until there was just a whisper of space between them. His hand slid from her jaw to toy with the fine hairs on the back of her neck. Giving her every opportunity to pull away, he brought his lips to rest on hers.  
  
It wasn't even really a kiss, more a gentle brushing of lips. Part of Grissom wanted to deepen the kiss. He was aching with the desire to taste her at last, but the fear he had seen in her eyes held him back.  
  
Slowly, he pulled back far enough to look Sara in the eye, trying to make sure that this was still what she wanted. He saw that the anger and indifference was gone, replaced by disbelief and joy. Yet the fear was still there.  
  
"Sara." Again, just her name.  
  
"You know, Gris, at some point you're going to have to figure out what to say past my name." As she spoke, Sara raised her hand to run it tentatively over his bearded cheek. She had caressed his cheek once before under the guise of wiping some chalk off, but he hadn't had the beard then. Nor had they just shared their first kiss.  
  
Sara was proud of the fact that she could speak. Her legs were threatening to give way at any second, and if Grissom kept playing with the hair on the back of her neck for much longer she could very well embarrass herself and start purring.  
  
Since he hadn't pulled away from her touch, Sara started to explore his face, bringing up her other hand to help map out the familiar yet new face before her. His beard tickled the palm of her hand and she shivered as she imagined the prickly sensation on other, much more sensitive parts of her body.  
  
"You shivered." The concern that laced his voice made Sara smile. It had been a while since she had heard that tone, and she had feared that she would never hear it again. "You're still cold." At one time, she might have asked him with a smile what he was going to do to warm her up, but the time of trading quips had passed. She hoped that it was not gone for good.  
  
"Sara?" Grissom was looking at her, concern starting to overpower the arousal that had been dominant since he had caught sight of her in the hallway.  
  
"Sorry, I was just thinking of times past. Anyway, I'm not cold." The disbelief was clear on Grissom's face. "Okay, I might still be a bit cold, but I promise you it's the furthest thing from my mind right now."  
  
"And what exactly is on your mind, Sara?" There was the smirk that she hadn't seen in ages. The playfulness. But she was not in the mood to play; this was too important.  
  
"I'm trying to figure out what exactly is going on here. What this means to you." She lost her courage, dropping her hands to her side and her eyes to his chest. "When you'll push me away again."  
  
"A few months ago you said that you were always over-talking around me. I wish I had that problem. When I'm around you, I lose all my words."  
  
"Grissom, you're one of the most brilliant people I've ever met. You're well read on a wide variety of subjects, and I've seen you lecture for hours without missing a beat or losing the interest of your audience."  
  
"That's easy, Sara. It's not personal. With you, I'm scared of saying too much, of saying the wrong thing."  
  
"So saying nothing at all is better?" Frustrated, Sara tried to take a step away from him. Grissom's hand tightened around the back of her neck holding her to him for a moment, before letting her go. Immediately, Sara missed its warmth.  
  
"I don't know what you want me to say, Sara. I wish I had the words to tell you what I feel."  
  
"Grissom. You can tell a suspect with apparent ease what you feel for me -- what you've felt for me for years. Why in the hell can't you tell me?"  
  
He was frozen, totally unable to move, even to breathe. She had heard. She had somehow heard what he had said to Lurie. God, how had that happened?  
  
"I was behind the glass." She was answering the question that must have been in his eyes. "I wanted to see the guy that had killed her. I wanted to know why he had done it."  
  
"I never meant for you to hear that." But now that he knew she had, he wondered if that would make it easier, since she knew what was in his heart. Taking a quick glance at her eyes, bright with confusion and anger, he knew that would not be the case.  
  
"Sara, please try to understand that this – talking, sharing my feelings -- is not easy for me. Doing it with you is even harder." It had been getting harder since they found Debbie's body.  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because with you it really matters. You have the power to destroy me." Having finally voiced his fear did not make it any easier to live with. "What I feel for you is bigger then anything I have ever felt for anyone else in my life."  
  
"You think that's any less true of me?" Grissom had often wondered how deep Sara's feelings had run. Now he could see the naked longing in her eyes, he could see the feelings that she had kept hidden from him for years were just as deep as his own.  
  
"Yes... I can see that you feel for me, but what I want to know is, why?" The genuine bewilderment in his eyes broke Sara's heart. It was apparent that he really could not fathom why she would feel that way about him.  
  
"Grissom, you are a brilliant man. I could spend the rest of life just talking to you and never be bored. When you let yourself, you have a wicked sense of humour and great sense of fun. I've seen how gentle and caring you are." Seeing the desperate hope she took a step forward to bridge the gap between them. "You intrigue me, challenge me. You make me look for the not- so-obvious answers." This time, when she brought her hand up to his rough cheek there was no hesitation. "Plus, you have the bluest eyes I've ever seen."  
  
It was Sara who initiated their second kiss. Her lips settled on Grissom's, her tongue instantly darting out to taste him. It seemed that was the permission Grissom had been waiting for. His arms came around her, hands roaming her back, pulling her tightly against him. With a groan he parted his lips, dipping his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues duelled, neither truly finding dominance.  
  
Grissom's hands had drifted down to her hips, where they rested before hesitantly pulling her flush against him. Sara could feel his growing arousal and rubbed herself against him.  
  
Sara's hand dropped to the waistband of Grissom's pants, pulling his shirt free and snaking her hand beneath. She could feel the ripple of muscles under flesh as she explored his back. If she raked her nails in long strokes, she found that she could make him shudder.  
  
Not to be outdone, Grissom's hands had been far from idle. Sara found that her shirt was bunched up around her breasts. Pulling her mouth from his, she gasped as his hands brushed the underside of her breast. Her head fell to his shoulder and her hand stilled on his back.  
  
With a deliberate slowness Grissom brought his left had to fully cup Sara's right breast, his thumb coming up to gently rub her straining nipple. Arousal shot from where he touched her, straight to the throb that had been steadily growing between her thighs. She thrust her hips forward, telling him with her body that she did not want him to stop.  
  
It seemed that he gotten her message loud and clear. In a swift move, Grissom ripped Sara's shirt and bra over her head and off her arms. It landed with a wet splat somewhere on the kitchen floor.  
  
Instantly he returned to her breasts, cupping them in his big hands, running his fingers over every inch. Again and again his fingers returned to her nipples, sometimes stroking, other times pinching. The cold and arousal mixed together to make them rock hard. Pleasure combined with pain elicited groans from deep inside her throat.  
  
Grissom's hands trailed down her breasts, coming to rest on her hips. He held her against him for a moment before lifting her and setting her on the counter.  
  
"Gris-–"Sara's inevitable question was cut off when Grissom took her nipple into his mouth. He dragged the flat part of his tongue over the top, causing Sara arch her back. The muscles of her stomach tightened as she felt his fingers trail down to the waistband of her jeans.  
  
Sara let lose a whimper of disappointment as he straightened, taking his mouth from her. Fearing that he was about to stop, she tried to let herself off the countertop. Grissom's hands held her firmly in place.  
  
"Look at me, Sara." His rough voice made Sara shudder internally. It was a command that could not be ignored. Reluctantly she brought her eyes up to meet his. "This is it, no turning back from here."  
  
"Grissom, I've wanted this for as long as I can remember. Why do you think I'd suddenly turn back now?"  
  
"I just want you to be sure. After this, you'll be mine. And I don't share well with others." Sara had to smirk. The last part was certainly true.  
  
"Gris, I've been yours for years now. You just haven't wanted—"  
  
"Don't mistake my not acting for not wanting." His hot gaze traveled from her face, down her naked chest to where his hands toyed with the button of her pants.  
  
"Well, how about acting now?" The grin mixed with a dare was all Sara needed to get Grissom moving again. Fingers that she had watch do countless precise experiments now undid her damp jeans with only the slightest trembling.  
  
Leaning back on her elbows, Sara lifted her hips so that Grissom could slide the jeans from her body. It wasn't an easy process, with the wet denim clinging to her long legs, but with a bit of tugging and a lot of giggling on Sara's part, the pants were off along with her underwear.  
  
"I'd like to see you try and do that," Grissom chided with mock sternness. Always up for a challenge, Sara sat up and reached for his pants. "Uh-uh, I'm not done yet."  
  
"Don't see what's left. I'm naked -- you still have on all your clothes," Sara pointed out. Again she reached for him, this time succeeding in dragging the shirt from his body. Leaning forward, Sara placed a soft kiss on his breastbone.  
  
Mischief gripped her as the kiss turned into a nip, and she started placing random kisses and nips across his chest. She deftly evaded his attempts to hold her still, until he slipped his hand up her inner thigh, his fingers coming to rest over her damp heat.  
  
"That's cheating." Even as she protested, her legs spread further apart, allowing him full access. One finger dipped in tentatively, and Sara realized he was making sure she was ready for this. Had she still been capable of speech, she would have told him that she'd been ready for him since she realized he was checking out her chest.  
  
That was the last coherent thought she had as Grissom slipped one, then two fingers into her. He slowly moved them in her, determining what she liked best. His thumb came to rest on the bundle of nerves just above his fingers.  
  
A moan filled the kitchen as Sara began thrusting her hips in time with Grissom's fingers. His thumb began to make tight little circles around her clit. Unable to hold herself upright any more Sara leaned back letting her elbows and forearms support her weight.  
  
Without breaking his rhythm Grissom followed Sara down, kissing her, his tongue mimicking his action lower down. Sara broke the kiss, her body tensing, and closed her eyes tight as she felt her orgasm approach.  
  
"Look at me." Grissom's voice was low, puffs of his breath tickling her lips and cheek. She tried to open her eyes, but it was too hard.  
  
Suddenly Grissom stopped moving in her. Sara let out a growl of protest.  
  
"Look at me." It took a great effort, but Sara managed to open her eyes. "Good girl." Somewhere in the recesses of her mind Sara might have objected to being called a girl, but Grissom had inserted a third finger and Sara couldn't remember her own name.  
  
It only took a couple more hard thrusts to have her rocketing over the edge. Sara felt as if her body was not her own any more as she shook, feeling her inner muscles contract around the fingers deep with in her.  
  
When the shaking had stopped, Grissom slowly withdrew his hand, bringing it slowly to his mouth to taste her. Sara watched through hooded eyes as her breathing evened out. She wanted him again.  
  
"You know, I'm pretty sure I have a perfectly good bed just down the hall."  
  
Raising an eyebrow Grissom pulled her upright. "Perhaps we should investigate it."  
  
Leaning in Sara placed a kiss on the side of his mouth. "Maybe we should," she whispered in his ear, before moving downward, leaving a trail of kisses down to where his neck met his shoulder. "I love the way you taste." As if to prove her point, she gently bit him over his carotid artery.  
  
"You seem to have a problem with biting." Grissom's teasing words tailed off into a moan as Sara bit down harder and pleasure mixed with pain.  
  
"Wanna see what else I can bite?" Sara leaned back, her smirk morphing into distress when she saw that she had left a mark. "Sorry."  
  
Grissom brought his hand up to feel the small indentation that she had left. He felt absurdly proud that she had marked him as hers. He wanted to do the same to her, to make sure that they both knew that she was his, just as he was hers.  
  
Trying to keep his caveman tendencies to himself, Grissom brought Sara flush against him, kissing her hard. His hand dropped down to wrap her long legs around his waist. Stepping back, he took her full weight, groaning as Sara settled against his raging erection. As quickly as he could, Grissom backed up from the island, heading out of her kitchen toward the short hallway that led to her bedroom.  
  
With Sara's legs wrapped tightly around his hips, holding her wet heat tightly against him, every step Grissom took caused her to grind against his arousal. Grissom was sure that he would embarrass himself before they got to her bed. He was ready to give up and just take her on the floor when he felt the bed bump against his legs.  
  
Locked together, they tumbled down, rolling until they were side by side. Sara's legs dropped from him, letting her pull back far enough to undo his pants. Her shaking fingers undid the button and zipper, dipping inside the moment there was enough room.  
  
Understanding her intent, Grissom grabbed her hands, raising them above her head. Loosely, he cuffed both wrists in one of his big hands, and leaned forward to kiss the pout off her lips.  
  
"Honey, if you touch me now, we'll see just how much of an effect you have on me."  
  
"I want to taste you, Grissom." Her words alone almost sent him over the edge. As it was, he couldn't control the groan that issued from between his lips.  
  
"Part of being older means I have more control -- I can go for longer. Having said that, it takes me longer to get back. This first time, I want to be inside you. We'll have time later." He watched her eyes carefully, again making sure she understood more then just the surface meaning of his words. This was more than a one-time deal. Seeing her nod, he let go of her wrists. "Stay put."  
  
In record time, Grissom had his pants and boxers off, tossing them carelessly on the floor. He came back to the bed, settling himself on top of Sara, taking most of his weight on his arms. Leaning down, he captured her lips in a kiss that was much more chaste then any of the previous, but filled with much more promise.  
  
The heat between them could only be held back for so long, and the kiss didn't stay chaste. Soon, they were nipping at each other's lips, teeth biting, tongues wrestling. Grissom shifted, bringing their hips into alignment. He brought a hand down to make sure she was still ready for him. Despite having satisfied her in the kitchen, he knew it had been a while for her. It had been a longer time for him and he knew the second he was in her that there would be no holding back.  
  
"Nothing will be the same after this," he reiterated, making sure she accepted that.  
  
"Grissom, I don't want to go back to the way things were." She leaned up to kiss him. "Now stop playing around. God, I want you so much."  
  
He eased himself into her slowly, inch by agonising inch. She was hotter and tighter than he could ever have imagined. It had never been like this for him before. When he was fully inside her, he stilled, letting their bodies become accustomed to each other.  
  
"You feel so good, so right." Her only response was to tighten her muscles around him.  
  
"Move. Now." And he did, moving with slow, deep thrusts. He kept the pace slow and steady, watching as Sara's head began to thrash back and forth on the pillow. Leaning down, he licked a trail of sweat that had begun to run down her neck, nipping Sara in the same spot where she had bitten him earlier. She clenched around him as he did so.  
  
Sensitive there, he thought, biting again. Sara growled, bringing her legs up, locking her ankles around his hips.  
  
"Faster," she grunted. "Stop holding back." She raked her nails down his back. The sensation shot to through him, causing his balls to tighten in response. He lost his finesse then, pistoning into her, loosing the steady rhythm he had earlier set.  
  
Keeping his mouth locked on her neck, he felt his control slip for good as the tingling in the base of his being signaled the start of his orgasm. Dimly, he heard Sara's scream as she clenched around him, her nails digging into his spine sending him over the edge. His own shout of pleasure was muffled by her neck.  
  
They lay there, panting in each other's arms, occasionally kissing or licking nearby flesh. As their breathing regulated, Grissom rolled to his side, keeping her pressed tightly against him. A shiver raced through Sara as their bodies cooled. Grissom pulled away to grab the blanket tangled at their feet.  
  
Sara felt him run his hand up her leg as he tugged the blanket around them. She felt him freeze when he stroked her inner thigh. Lazily, she looked up to find him staring at his hand in horror.  
  
"Gris?" Dread filled her as he continued to just stare, unmoving. "Grissom, what's wrong?" She tried to shore up her defences, but they were all gone.  
  
"I didn't use anything. God Sara, I didn't use anything." Suddenly she understood what his panic was about. "I didn't even think. Didn't even occur to me until I touched you now." With a look of appalled fascination Grissom brought up his hand. Their combined fluids coated his fingers.  
  
"Grissom, it takes two, and I didn't think about it either. Thank you for worrying, and for admitting that you were so far gone that it didn't occur to you." She smiled and leaned forward, licking his finger clean.  
  
"Sara, now, this is serious."  
  
"No, it's not. I get a shot once every couple of months. Easier than the pill, which I never remember to take." She saw the look of relief shoot across his face mixed with brief regret and jealousy. The jealousy stayed. "The shots are to regulate my periods and my mood." She could see he had a snarky remark to make on the tip of his tongue, but seemed to think better of it.  
  
Smart man.  
  
A yawn escaped before Sara could think to stop it. Tenderly, Grissom pulled the blanket the rest of the way up, covering them both. He lay down next to her, pulling her back snugly against his chest. Their breathing slowly regulated as they drifted off to sleep.  
  
### TBC 


	3. Warm

An incessant ringing woke Grissom. For a moment he lay frozen, not used to waking up with someone next to him or in someone else's bed. Slowly his mind filled in the blanks: the brunette in his arms was Sara, and they were in her bed because they were at her house. A flood of images filled in the time, from trying to make coffee for her, to them ending up naked in bed.  
  
"Was that your cell?" Sara's voice asked from somewhere in the vicinity of his chest.  
  
"Yeah, and judging by the ring, it was the lab." At the mention of the lab, they both froze.  
  
"Oh shit." Sara pulled herself from his embrace, leaving Grissom feeling bereft. Without her in his arms he felt the panic he had been holding at bay starting to set in. They had already screwed up, big time. "Okay, it's not even 4am yet. We haven't even been asleep for ten minutes. All we have to say is that I had an extra-long shower and then we went out for a meal."  
  
Coming up behind her, Grissom circled his arms around her waist. He leaned down, placing a tender kiss on her shoulder. The second he touched her he felt more grounded. Her warmth made it all feel real.  
  
"If you want to go take the world's fastest shower, I can make you coffee and something to eat. While you're eating, I'll shower." As he spoke, Sara turned in his embrace, kissing him softly.  
  
"We can shower together and save time," she said with a smile. "Pick up coffee and food at a drive thru place on the way to work."  
  
Grissom withdrew from her, standing up to search for his pants, which held his phone in their pocket. He kept his back to her; what was easily overlooked in the heat of passion was not so easily hidden in the harsh light of the bedside lamp. Finding his pants, he pulled them on, wishing his shirt was in her room too. The pants only went so far in hiding the extra weight he carried these days.  
  
Pulling out the phone, Grissom called his voice mail. The message was from Greg, letting Grissom know that he had finally warmed up and was going to start processing evidence.  
  
"That was Greg. He's processing what we picked up at the baseball field."  
  
"Gris, are you panicking?" Sara's voice was small. "Do you regret this?" When he turned to face her, he saw she had pulled the blanket up herself, wrapping it up tightly around herself. He saw tears in her eyes. It tore at his hear that he had hurt her again.  
  
Dropping the phone, he went to her, sitting next to her on the bed and pulling her into his arms. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.  
  
"I don't regret a moment of what we did. I regret that we have to leave and go to work, I regret that we were on company time. But never what happened between us." Gently, he raised her chin so he could see her expression. The tears were gone, but the sadness remained. "Besides, combined we've put in enough unpaid overtime to make up for a lapse while on the clock." That got him a smirk. Turning serious, "But Sara, you know that this can never happen again while we're on shift." Grissom let his hand caress her face before dropping to his side.  
  
"Wanna shower?" Sara soft question was filled with uncertainty. Resigned, Grissom gave her a nod. She'd have seen what he looked like sooner or later. Sara was a smart woman - she had to have done the math about their ages as many times as he had. She'd have to know he wasn't young any more.  
  
All thoughts stopped as she stood before him, dropping the blanket.  
  
"You're so beautiful." The words left his mouth without his permission, but that didn't make them any less heartfelt.  
  
"So are you."  
  
Grissom let out a snort at that. With a look of self-derision he brought his hands up to his middle. "Yes, my grey hair and paunchy stomach is ever- so-attractive." Sara looked at him long and hard, understanding that he meant every word.  
  
"I wish I had more time to change your mind about that." Slowly, she ran her fingers through his disheveled hair. "I love you. When I look at you I don't see bits and pieces. I see all of you. I see the teacher, the friend, the boss, the man."  
  
"Let's go take a shower." She could see that he wasn't entirely convinced, but they just didn't have the time right now. Dealing with their combined issues could take hours. More likely days bordering on weeks.  
  
###  
  
The shower was fast, and while they took the time to look at each other, they did not touch. Both felt the time constraint they were under. Within twenty minutes they were out the door and on the way back to work.  
  
"We don't have a lot of time. Is Burger King alright? They have veggie burgers." Sara gave him a bright smiled Grissom felt his heart warm at the sight. It felt like it had been months since she smiled at him in that way.  
  
"That's fine. No mayo though, please."  
  
Food bought, they ate in companionable silence for the rest of the drive to CSI.  
  
As they parked, Grissom took her hand. "Ready?" He glanced at her. Again she smiled at him, momentarily rendering him incapable of speech or movement.  
  
"Ready." Together they exited the Denali, grabbed the evidence from the back, and headed into work.  
  
End 


End file.
